The Price Of Fame
by anotherday13
Summary: Addison Marq is one of the most promising young models of today's fashion world. She's always been the good girl, so what happens when she meets fun-loving James Maslow? Will she keep her goody-two-shoes way or will he break her shell? JamesXOC


"I need more emotion, Addi. I need you to _feel_ the outfit." The photographer, Andrew, was jumping around in front of me a bit like a monkey, camera in hand.

I nodded a little, trying to follow his directions to the best of my ability. I posed a little bit awkwardly on the hood of an overpriced car, trying to remember what, if anything, it had to do with the new Betsey Johnson jacket I was being paid big bucks to show-off.

"Come on, Addi, give me fierce. Give me feeling." I could tell he was getting frustrated by the increased movement of his arms and the red that was slowly creeping to his cheeks. I was getting a little flustered, too.

Mentally I'd already given up, but I was still forcing my body to work through it. Most anyone who's modeled would tell you that you can't think when you do it or it won't work. That it's something as natural as blinking or breathing. And that might hold true for them, but I had to think when I did it. I had to think about every muscle that moved, every little twitch in my facial features. That's pretty much how I did everything. My mother raised me to believe that analyzing every little detail was the only way to be successful. It didn't make much sense to me, but it had gotten me a promising career and contracts worth hundreds of thousands of dollars and my face on TV and in magazines. What more could a girl want?

Andrew's movements began to grow slower and his jumping ceased before my eyes. Just when it looked like he was ready to throw in the towel, my mother caught my attention from behind the mini-buffet table set up to my right. She quickly gave me the stern 'don't blow this' look, her arms folded over her chest. I nodded a little, knowing it would be more trouble for me if I didn't fix this.

"Oh, Andrew?" I called in my chirpy city-girl voice that I typically only used to get something. When he looked over, his face looked drawn and a little disappointed. He had little dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messed up from his hand repeatedly running through it. "Could we get just a few more frames? Please?"

He stared at me, long and hard, for several seconds before something clicked in his mind like 'Ah, what the hell,' and he walked back towards me. "Ready?"

I tugged at the strap on my heel and dusted my shoulder a little then nodded. "Go for it."

"I'm proud of you, Addison. You really pulled through." My mother was loading her plate with everything from grilled skewers to carrot sticks to mini croissants from the buffet table.

I managed to smile at her. "Thanks, mom." The last 10 minutes of the shoot had gone wonderfully; I'd managed to reconnect my body with my brain and had pulled out, what I thought to be, some really great shots. Andrew seemed ecstatic when he called, "That's a wrap," and beamed at me. I gave myself a mental pat-on-the-back. With my high, I even had a glimmer of hope as I reached for a little sandwich that had been speared with a toothpick. Reality struck me down though, as it always did, as my mother swatted my hand.

"There's no time for eating. We've got to get going, many things to do yet." She said, quickly shuffling me towards the door. I noticed Andrew wrapping up his conversation with one of the staff and I motioned for my mother to go on without me, mouthing the supplementary 'I'll be out in a minute.".

"Andrew." I said to him, motioning to him with my hand to make sure he'd notice.

"Addison." He smiled as he walked towards me, kissing both my cheeks quickly with the 'mwah, mwah' for emphasis.

"I just wanted to say goodbye before we left. My mother always has me running somewhere." It was always beneficial to get a last few good words in. "That and to say what a good time I had shooting with you."

"Oh, Addi. And what a joy it was to shoot your gorgeous face!" He was beaming at me like I was his new child prodigy.

We exchanged a few more small words, then did the 'kiss kiss' thing again before going our separate ways.

As soon as I got in the car my confidence was shattered.

"What were you _doing _in there? You almost blew that entire shoot!" My mother was practically screaming at me now. "All that I do for you, Addison. Do you even know how hard it was to get you that shoot?"

"Mom, calm down. It worked out fine. It just took me a little while to find my groove." I folded my arms and sank down into the passenger seat of my mother's Lexus.

"This time you found it, but what about next time? Andrew was almost ready to throw in the whole shoot in because you couldn't 'find your groove'. What happens next time when you don't find you rhythm and you don't get the shot?" All of these questions were rhetorical, of course, and I had to squelch the need to defend myself.

"Can we just go? We'll be late for your spa appointment if we don't leave now." She stared at me a long moment, trying to find my gaze. Then, unable to meet my eyes, she drove off.

This was how it went after pretty much every photo shoot. Even if the photographer was satisfied after my first 10 frames my mother would still find some mistake and would drill me about it for days, laying on guilt trips thicker than butter on toast. I could never win. Then we'd sit in awkward silence for the rest of the day as she ran her 'errands', which usually consisted of acupuncture appointments and expensive facials. Then after a few days she would try to make it up to me by calling me 'sweetie' and buying me french manicures. But you couldn't buy Addison Marq's respect, that was for sure.

We pulled up to StarBucks several tension-filled hours later and I heard a phone ring. My mother glanced at the screen of her Blackberry and sighed. "Addison, I have to take this. Can you go in and get the coffee for me?"

I would've protested but she had already taken the call and launched into a heated discussion with a woman named Katherine. I took a deep breath, trying not to let my mother and all of her obnoxious behavior get to me too much. I pushed the door open a groaned inwardly at the line of at least 10 people in front of me. After a few minutes of waiting and a progression of about 6 inches I noticed that only one of their four registers was open, which didn't make sense to me considering the workers that were sitting around quite obviously doing nothing productive.

"There's like a hundred people in here. It will take forever." I heard someone standing behind me say. I turned a little to make sure they weren't talking to me when I realized they were on their cell phone. "Yeah, okay Logan. I'll get your coffee don't worry." The guy flipped his phone shut with a frustrated sigh and I turned to look at him out of the corner of my eye again.

He must've noticed me glancing at him because he said, "Sorry, I hate lines." with an apologetic smile.

I just smiled and nodded at him a little before turning forward again. About 20 minutes later I'd finally ordered and was standing under the 'Pick Up Order Here' sign when I looked over at the guy again. He was actually pretty cute; he had shaggy brown hair and was about 2 or 3 inches taller than me. I watched him absentmindedly as he drummed his fingers on the counter, the rhythm burned into my brain.

"Order 527; tall caramel frappe, one house, one breakfast, one gingerbread latte." The tiny girl behind the counter snapped me back to reality. I nodded at her expectant expression, taking the small bag and two drink cups from her. I heard my mother honk outside and I rolled my eyes. S0 classy. I quickly turned on my heel and was approaching the door when I heard someone say "Hey, wait up,"

I turned to see the guy holding out something small to me. "I think you left your credit card on the counter."

I felt in my pocket and, noticing that my credit card wasn't there, smiled at him. "So I did, thanks." I reached out and took it from him, my hand brushing his in the process. We stood there for a moment just smiling at each other, his hazel eyes boring into my green ones. I cleared my throat and he stood up a little straighter when I said, "Right, well, I should probably get going."

"Right," He ran his hand down the back of his neck. "So I'll see you around I guess?"

"Sure." I smiled. A car honked behind me and I quickly waved a little then turned and strode out, forgetting to get Mystery Boy's name in the fear of getting my head cut off by my fire-breathing mother. _Oh well,_ I thought. I had a feeling we'd be seeing each other again.

**So, I know you guys were probably hoping for a **_**Teenagers**_** update, but I got an idea for this story so I did this instead. Anyways, do you like it? Hate it? Love it? Let me know!**


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